"Well the swelling has gone completely down," Dr. Song informed me. Even she couldn't hide the small frown on her face as she stared at Taeyeon's prone body. "From the tests it looks like it's been down for the last two days at least."

"Then why isn't he awake?" I grated out.

Hearing the emotion in my voice, Dr. Song looked up at me and sighed. "Miss Jung, I don't know. I'm very sorry, but I have no explanation for you."

They were the words I had expected to hear, but it didn't make me feel any better. As a matter of fact, they just made me want to curl up in a ball and cry. I settled for falling back into the chair beside his bed and burying my face in my hands.

We had come full circle. I had now been in Hong Kong for a full week and there hadn't been any changes. Though he had reacted to a change in temperature, the bottom line was that his eyes weren't open and he wasn't moving or responsive. And now that I knew all the swelling was gone, I was running on a thin strand of hope.

I braced against the desire to completely break down. Instead, I took a deep, stabilizing breath and sat back up, folding my hands in my lap instead. "Okay," I said. "Okay I guess I'll just... I guess we'll just keep waiting."

Dr. Song's smile was sympathetic, "That's all we can do right now."

She was right. We didn't have much of choice. It wasn't a good sign that he was still unconscious even after the swelling went down, but I wasn't going to take it to heart. At some point over the week, I had made the decision that I wasn't leaving Hong Kong until he woke up. That meant that he didn't have a choice but to wake up, because my life was not going to consist of spending each day in the hospital.

After Dr. Song left, I leaned forward, running a hand over my face with exhaustion. This was becoming too much for me. I didn't want to think that was possible, but I could feel the weight of stress bearing more heavily on me every day.

"Taeyeon, what are you doing?" I asked, the strain from keeping my emotions in check making my voice thin. My fingers rubbed small circles on my temples and my eyes stared blankly at the window. "I know you're in there. This isn't fair." I looked at him, a sudden anger boiling in my chest. "This isn't fair," I repeated forcefully. "You should be awake. You shouldn't be lying in that bed anymore. I've been here every single day, right by your side. I've put my life on hold because you needed me. But this is it." tears of frustration welled in my eyes and I grimaced at my own weakness. It seemed like all I had been doing for the past week was cry. 

"The swelling has gone down," I said to him watching the rise and fall of his chest, "You don't have an excuse for this anymore. And I don't have an excuse for why you aren't awake." I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect of him lying on this bed possibly forever. The thought choked me and I took his hand for the millionth time, biting my lip to keep it from trembling. "Your time is up, Tae," I whispered. Then, unable to sit there and stare at his unmoving body for a second longer, I stood abruptly. I released him and brought my hand up to cover my mouth instead, stepping out of the room.

My breath was ragged and I put my back to the wall for stability before giving up and sliding down it. I might have sat there on the floor for an hour; all I could think about was what the doctor had told me. I spent all this time hoping and praying that all we had to wait for was the swelling to go down, convinced that once that happened, he wouldn't have a choice but to wake up. But now I didn't have anything left.

Two days. The swelling had already been down for two days, she said. His brain had finished healing itself; why wouldn't it let him wake up?

People passed by me in a blur. None of them stopped to see if I was okay and I figured that on the neurology floor, my state was probably nothing new. The brain was a complicated thing; people were used to getting bad news about it by now.

Finally I hoisted myself off the floor. A wave of dizziness swept over me and I gripped the wall for support. "Stop it," I whispered to my stomach, knowing that was the cause of the spots in front of my eyes. "I'm sorry; I'll try to be strong again." I promised, placing a hand protectively over my child. With a sigh, I headed back to the room. My limbs felt heavy with exhaustion, but I returned to my seat and gripped his hand again, blinking away the last of the wetness in my eyes.

"I'm not going to leave you, Tae." Surprisingly, his skin felt warm against mine and I took his hand in both of my own. My voice felt stronger and I cleared my throat. "You can't leave me either."

*  *  *
 

"When I swore... we'd see each other again... I was hoping... to look halfway... decent at least." His voice sounded so far away that I was sure I was dreaming. Still, my eyes flew open with the shock and I sat straight up in the chair, my hair falling into my face. When I spun around to look at him I could barely believe that I was staring into chocolate brown eyes that I was convinced I'd never see again.

"Oh my god," I breathed, afraid that if I touched him he would disappear.

"Not god... Taeyeon." He responded, exhaustion heavy in his voice. Then, he cracked a tiny version of his dimple smile and without warning, I burst into tears. Heedless of his bruised ribs, I threw myself over him just like Hyuna had days earlier, my fingers digging into his clothes. He grunted, probably in pain, before I felt his hands lifting to settle on my arms. "No crying," he admonished softly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I blubbered, pressing my face into his shoulder. "I thought you wouldn't ever wake up."

He didn't respond and I knew that it was probably because he was worn out. Realizing that my position was probably painful for him, I sat up quickly. But before I could stand and back away, his hand tightened marginally on my arm and he held me in place, our faces inches apart. The bruises on his skin had begun to lighten to a yellowish green. One by his eyebrow was still fairly purple and seeing it so close made my lip tremble again.

Taeyeon stared into my eyes and I saw him wince slightly as his hand skated up my arm. I guessed that the pressure on his ribs from moving was causing him pain, but he didn't seem overly disturbed. The tip of his finger brushed over the wetness on my cheeks and then traced the dark bags under my eyes. He frowned, blinking. "You look... like hell."

A startled laugh bubbled in my chest, "You're one to talk," I responded. He grinned and then grimaced again. Immediately, I backed off. His hands fell back to his sides, but he kept his eyes on me. I knew I needed to get Dr. Song, but I was deathly afraid that if I looked away for even a second, when I looked back his eyes would be closed again. As though he knew, he continued to watch me.

My heart pounded in my chest, "I'm going to call a nurse," I said, grabbing the remote next to his bed. I could hear someone rush into the room, but I didn't turn. "Call Dr. Song," I said to whoever it was, keeping eye contact